


Modern Man, Modern Love

by GallusGallus



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Omega Ezio Auditore da Firenze, Slow Build, Slow Burn, alpha Leonardo da vinci
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2020-06-02 12:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19441279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallusGallus/pseuds/GallusGallus
Summary: Modern life is complicated. It's more complicated when you are being held hostage for your technological genius by the enemy of the man you love. Then learning a life changing (and game changing) surprise about the assassin that climbs in and out of your life.Leonardo was never prepared for any of this.





	1. Prologue

Prologue

Watching the guards fall gurgling on their own blood was both a relief and sickening. Leonardo was not a violent man and seeing so much death being dealt on his behalf was disgusting. It meant he could live, free and safe from the Borgias. It also meant that his life, his freedom, was bought by blood on another man's hands and lives on Leonardo's soul.


	2. Where do we go from here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a change of plans and a rather irate "host".

Cesare Borgia stalks around the work bench, hissing in growing fury. Leonardo watched quietly and tries to keep his young assistant out of the man's immediate sight.

Rings flashing, papers flying everywhere, Cesare screeches while he rakes the desk clear of schematics. "I have been patient. I have been generous even. All I asked is for you to make me something useful. And you give me garbage! Worthless trinkets!"

Leonardo tries not to flinch as Cesare's reptilian eyes bore into him, nearly nose to nose as the diatribe grows louder. "I know, I do. And, and I am trying my best, working as fast-"

The slap stings, the metal of the would be warlord's rings gouging Leonardo's unshaven cheek. Behind Leonardo, Salai growls, curses on the tip of his tongue. Leonardo frantically flaps his arms behind himself, catching his young intern before he can get himself killed.

' _Please Salai_ ,' he prays, ' _be humble for once in your life. I can't stop this man if you do something stupid.'_

"If this is your best, then you are obviously useless to me. Every one of your machines has failed! The special armor of the tank was faulty! The untraceable aquatic missiles? So damn noticeable that my enemies destroyed them with themselves. This new thing, this secret little satellite is terrible. Trash it." Cesare rants, eyes never leaving the inventor and his helper.

Salai trembles against Leonardo's back. Leonardo is reminded of dogs that attack in fury and then get ripped apart by something much more deadly than they are. He squeezes the boy's wrists and digs in his heart for the strength to get them both through this. Licking his lips, Leonardo begins again.

"Perhaps something that allows you to spy or to eliminate an enemy without the mechanism being traced would be a more practical project then. Something that is hidden in plain sight. No one ever looks up."

Apparently, this is not a stupid idea, if the Borgia heir's unwavering glower is any indication. Leonardo visualizes the sleek muscles of a horse, bunching and rippling. He imagines the incredible flexing of the feathers on an eagle's wings, the slide of lush fabric over a smoking gun. And he weaves the spell, begins the illusion again. As Cesare leans in hungerly, as Salai stiffens in horror; Leonardo pretends that this is a web of fancy woven for a man in a white suit and amber eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first real piece of writing in years. I haven't written for fun, for myself in so long. I am rusty and unsure where this is going or if I will even finish it. 
> 
> I am inspired by so many on this site, and others. Thank you.
> 
> I am not really proof reading and if I make mistakes, tell me. If I proof read, I am afraid that I will stop writing. It has taken me years to get here and write, not just read, fan fiction.


	3. Stuck in the Middle with You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reflections on an uncomfortable situation.

As in so many aspects of Leonardo's life, this particular scene came about due to rich men's machinations and his own inability to keep his head down. After all, who could miss noticing a man who hosts his own art exhibition across the street from his rival? Who could avoid hearing of an inventor who claimed in a popular journal that he could create a new type of metal, perfect for deflecting high powered ammunition while the same material could blend with its surroundings? And who could miss the rumors of a man who dreams of individual flight, of something beyond modern medicine, of androids and impossible tools in public media and Internet posts?

Certainly not Cesare Borgia, son of the magistrate of the Federation of Italian States and one of the top generals of the Roman military. Leonardo was tech savvy, he was an inventor and engineer. Any child of the federal states would want to serve their government faithfully. And thus, in a completely random sequence of coincidences, the artist of Vinci was drafted into the army and then moved to a prestigious rank in the special division under Borgia's direct command.

The very idea of the 'randomized' events leading to enslavement of Salai and himself made Leonardo snarl. Pressed into service, Salai as both a hostage and helper, and with Cesare breathing down Leonardo's neck; it made his skin crawl in helpless disgust. The pressure to create and save their lives was just as suffocating as the desire to prevent Cesare being able to use Leonardo's work at all. Any weapons or tools would be wielded against innocents, against those who opposed oppression and censorship of expression of all kinds. It would mean destroying parts of Leonardo himself in favor of preserving his own physical self. Bile rose in Leonardo's throat at the very thought.

So many projects were completed, only to be found faulty in testing the prototype. A concept would be off, a measurement just slightly skewed, an ingredient left out. Then ideas would be tested again only to be lackluster in effect. The lesser engineers, the Borgia grunts who put the schematics into action, often discovered dangerous side effects or deadly consequences that would have to be rectified. Throughout it all leonardo was astonished, so very puzzled and flustered by these mistakes. Salai was only an assistant, practically an intern only useful for supply runs, so it wasn't his fault. But Leonardo was always so sure that the idea was sound... and genius always had some flaw, perhaps absentmindedness and a tendency towards the illegible or insane...

But eventually, all the kinks would be ironed out, the final prototypes manufactured and trials put in motion. Leonardo and Salai would be shoved back into their locked and monitored quarters and reminded that Borgia wanted faster results next time. Then the news would trickle in about the final test: how the war machines and technologies held up against a lunatic vigilante who favored archaic weapons and impractical white uniforms. Inevitably, Leonardo's mighty inventions tended to explode on contact with what was deemed the most deadly (and aggravating) of all the members of the Order of the Assassin's Brothehood.

Leonardo tried his level best to keep his thoughts on this subject to himself. Cesare was not likely to appreciate them. After all, Leonardo was supposed to be helping create a new world with his genius. He wasn't supposed to be best friends (and possibly other things) with the White Devil of Florence.


	4. A Jolly Holiday with Leonardo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Roman holiday begins.

On occasion, Leonardo could scrabble together some time outside of his prison for himself or Salai. It took a lot to earn it though. This particular time required creating increasingly elaborate excuses and lies for a warden to feed to his suspicious wife. Leonardo never imagined a situation where he crafted a tale to explain away several hundred florins worth of "sex stuff, you know, the kinky stuff" as work related expenses. If that wasn't bad enough, the burly alphas who guarded the compound would not let him leave without extracting vicious pleasure from him. 

"Beg for it, come on you freak." The guard sneered, lips curling in disgust.

Eye burning and face throbbing in pain, Leonardo tried not to show how raw this constant treatment rubbed him. The alphas chuckled, tightening their circle in preparation for round two. The ache of a swelling cheek and blurry vision made their snarling faces worse. The soldiers cracked their knuckles. The ring leader snatched the lapels of the artist's coat.

"Please, please don't. Let me lick your boots, I won't fight you. Just stop." The words gushed out of Leonardo's mouth, shameful and desperate. The woman gripping his coat paused, considering his plea. Grunting, she shoved him downwards, sending him crashing to the sidewalk on his knees.

"Do it. Like you mean it. Like an Omega slut." She commanded and her cohorts moved closer. They jeered,knocking Leonardo off balance and closer to her boots. 

Eyes clenched shut, face in a rictus of humiliation and pain, Leonardo licked at the grimy boots. Eventually, a hand jerked his head back, the raucous laughter subsiding. The woman stared at him, her musk jarring and sharp. She tossed him towards the gate house.

"What a good boy you are! We'll make something out of you yet, you knot sucker!" She crows, her voice grating on his ears as he stumbles through the check point and finally into freedom.

Rome was at once beautiful and utterly disgusting. Leonardo supposed, as he tried to wash the blood off his face at an out of the way fountain, that a lot of that opinion had to do with his situation. The marvelous buildings were marred by the knowledge of who they belonged to. The bountiful markets were scarred by the multitude of decrepit and poverty stricken that roamed the fringes, hungry and hopeless. The clean streets and beautiful clothes made vapid by the proximity of too many empty homes and shops on streets patrolled by a sham of a police force. How could he find joy and beauty in a place that bound him body and soul?

Not to mention how cut off he was. As he trudged through the markets and ran menial errands, his mind wandered to people he couldn't see, patrons and friends alike. Even doing pointless portraits would be more pleasurable than this, he thinks. As he wanders, he watches for cameras, for too casual groups of trained soldiers, signs of the true powers in the city. 

And wherever he finds holes in the network of grunts and surveillance, he doodles little chalk hands on benches. Just little acts of temporary vandalism that will be overlooked and forgotten. What danger is that, when so many projects and blueprints are hemmed in with sketches? It is just the artistic mind at work, no threat to the Borgia regime. All the while, Leonardo carefully peers about for hints of white, for watchful eyes in alleys and pretty women who note his passing as more an a missed customer. Hopefully, the pointing fingers will be followed in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The website tried to auto correct my summary as "the romance holiday begins".  
> Apparently the Internet wants this to move way faster.  
> I swear, other characters will be appearing soon. As will the connections to the tags. I just want to build up, explain a bit.


	5. Gunning for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The latest project is done.

Leonardo hasn't slept in days. His eyes burn and his limbs swim through molasses when he tries to move them. 

The gun that Cesare had demanded, the gun that had murdered Mario Auditore; the Borgia general wanted an improved version. If the Assassins had high powered wrist mounted weapons, then just an overpowered handgun was not going to be enough to sate Cesare's vanity and pride.

It took three days to machine all the parts, two weeks of planning before that and a couple of weeks of intensive testing after that. Finally, he produced a gun that passed muster. Complete with a scope, laser sight, silencer; the weapon was also collapsible and fully automatic. Upon being handed the gun, Cesare had stoked the muzzle and smiled sensuously.   
"This is much improved Leonardo. Very...elegant. You've done such a good job." The man had murmured, glancing up from under his lashes at the inventor. 

Leonardo wrung his hand and twisted his lips into a sickly grimace. He hoped Cesare would see a sycophantic grin. "Thank you sir. I am glad it meets your expectations."

"Indeed. I think, after all this hard work my little painter, you deserve a reward. What would you like?" asked Cesare. He sighted down the gun, sliding his fingers along the top of the slide, caressing the trigger with care as he spoke. 

Leonardo went still, aware Cesare's casual behavior indicated something else. He hesitated, then said, "I am honored, sir. Ah, well, I wouldn't want to presume...I think that perhaps, in this case, er..." 

Oh, a cruel thing to ask, what he wanted? A reward would be to go free, see Salai let go, a way out of this mess. Leonardo shifted from foot tofoot, wringing his hands. Beyond the general, he could spy Salai lurking in the shadows of the room. The boy's eyes were huge and dark, face drawn. Leonardo had to look away from his intern's pale visage, for fear of the yearnings that threatened to climb out of his own throat. 

Cesare glanced up from his new toy with a serene mein. With a mincing step he approached Leonardo, Cesare’s handsome face set into a peculiar expression. His fingers grazed Leonardo cheek bone, scraping stubble as they meandered to Leonardo's lips. The nails perched for just a moment on the point where the artist's lips met. Leonardo held his breath while Cesare's sharp eyes drank in his face, pausing on those invasive fingers. 

"Ask and you shall receive. I can be generous, da Vinci, with those who please me."

"There is a collection, in the university. I, I would like very much to go there. It's all blueprints from the war, I remember seeing one in particular. It would help me if I could see it again. And they don't allow anything to leave the building." The words spilled out of Leonardo, his cheeks heating. 

Cesare pulled back and straightened. His mouth pursed and his eyes dulled from their feverish gleam. His face looked less predatory.

Leonardo began to wonder if he would choke from holding his breath. 

Finally, Cesare loosed a sigh and tossed his answer over his shoulder as he strode to the door.  
"Well, I can respect a drive to work, passion. You may go tomorrow." 

Once the door clicked shut behind the last soldiers, Leonardo let his knees buckle and slumped to the floor. He buried his face in Salai's curls when the boy burrowed into his lap. He closed his eyes and let Salai's warm arms comfort him.

Getting out of the compound was so hard.


	6. Nowhere Man Waiting in a Nowhere Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting away for some personal time.

It was not very difficult to escape the notice of the guards at the university. Setting a few blueprints on fire was generally a good way to cause chaos. In the madness caused by fire suppressors gushing water and alarms blaring, Leonardo managed to slip into a supply closet. From there, he snuck through the building, slunk through the university's packed campus and into the city at large. The crowds swallowed the inventor, leaving no trace of his escape

Leonardo kept a close eye on every camera he passed. He knew technology could either be a spy for his captors, or a watchful guardian in service of his allies. Even so, he made sure to take the more trafficked areas, hiding in the crush of people. Every time Leonardo navigated a crowd, he noticed a patch of white, a red scarf mistaken for the tail of an overly fancy coat. Or he spotted a hoodie that on closer inspection, did not belong to anyone he knew. Still, as he walked deeper into the city, Leonardo kept one eye on the skyline the other on the unusual trail of breadcrumbs he was making.

Leonardo carried around Sharpies, chalk, grease markers, whatever he could secret away on his person, in preparation for these brief moments of unsupervised freedom. As usual, painting on the city benches was therapeutic. While finishing a slender finger with a flourish of his marker, Leonardo relaxed into his mind, pondering. It was one of his guilty pleasures, vandalism. Leonardo wanted to change the world not just capture it in art. As a child, he had created on any surface he could, including the walls. The orphanage had never been fond of his 'art'. As he grew, his canvas expanded in unison with his mobility and freedom. When projects failed and opportunities soured into hindrances, Leonardo took to the streets, armed with his paints. His ideas spread on every surface, as he searched for a way to move the world with his own two hands. 

While he worked, Leonardo kept an eye on the rooftops, seeking an elusive figure. A person who flew across rooftops and whose eagle eyes would see the little graffiti fingers that pointed out the inventor's path. Leonardo yearned that those keen eyes would read the message those fingers signed.

Eventually, the cameras thinned to almost nothing. The alley Leonardo settled into was grimy, littered with refuse from the passers by. Although it was out of the way, Leonardo hoped it was noticeable from above. Here, the graffiti was plentiful, but not much that his own tags disappeared. Leonardo sat, calmly people watching until a man dressed in white appeared. 

Some meetings the man wore a sports coat or tailored suit; sometimes a hooded sweatshirt. Resting his elbows on his knees with a hood or hat pulled low over his face, sunglasses sometimes hiding his strange amber eyes; the man would drop onto the bench beside Leonardo. A rasp of heavy leather gloves clasping each other heralded the first words spoken by a voice softened by caution. 

"Well hello my friend. What have you done today?"

Upon hearing that voice, deep inside of Leonardo, a bud always blossomed, a little bit of joy set free. He knew there was now a predator beside him, watching him. But this eagle wasn't here to eat him but to protect him. Usually, Leonardo smiled, feeling like it was the first smile he had in years.  
"Ezio! Oh, it is so good to see you." Leonardo murmured, trying desperately not to turn towards his companion. 

Beside Leonardo, the man in white relaxed just a hair, his shoulders inching down. A flash of white teeth showed between scarred lips as the man said, "As it is to see you my friend."

But this time it's hard for Leonardo to relax. He can't bring a smile to his own face. It's getting worse and worse every day under Cesare's terrible treatment and the fear. Salai is losing his passion and feisty spirit from being so long a captive. Leonardo himself can't think of more ways to sabotage his own inventions.  
With every dark glance, with every lingering touch; Cesare is destroying Leonardo and his intern. Leonardo knows he can't hold up. Eventually he will break. Just as Cesare knows he will. Leonardo fears that even the assassin seated next to him at that very moment knows.


	7. Change, Face the Strange; part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man in white finally shows up.

For a self proclaimed pacifist, Leonardo da Vinci was excellent at causing destruction and chaos. Perched on a rooftop, wireless headset murmuring in his ear, Ezio had seen the smoke at the university from over a mile away. His eagle eyes could even see the little red Templar goons who surrounded the building. They raced about as they attempted to locate the missing artist in the havoc caused by the fire and evacuation of the building. 

As he climbed and leapt from building to building, it hadn't taken long for Ezio to notice the little golden trail leading away from the university. The iridescent path led deeper into the city into the lesser known streets and alleys. The golden trail glimmered in his mind's eye, a tantalizing map. He vaulted from fire escapes and clambered over air conditioning units. All the while he scanned the streets for clues as to his quarry's location. When he started to see little doodles, artistic graffiti on walls, he grinned to himself. The pointing hand, classical in design, grew more prevalent as Ezio's free running took him into the seedier parts of town. He knew all the little fingers he saw were finally pointing him in the right direction.

A flash of gold in the corner of his eye alerted Ezio to the artist. Skidding to a stop at the edge of a roof, Ezio spun about, hurrying to keep that glow in sight. Finally, from a vantage point of a full storey above street level, Ezio drank in the sight of Leonardo. He sat with his head in his hands, elbows on knees, curled in on himself. For a terrible moment, Ezio thought the older man was hurt. He flicked his Eagle vision on just to get a better glimpse. But no, there didn't seem to be any blood, no obvious injuries. No little droplets of gold on the ground to show a wound that seeped blood uncontrollably. Just the golden glow of Leonardo himself. It was a huge relief for Ezio to know his friend was all right. After a quick glance around to check for enemies and finding none, Ezio leapt the concrete barrier surrounding the roof, dropping towards the ground.

Leonardo obviously hadn't been expecting a man to drop down besides his bench right then and there. Leonardo jumped, startled, when Ezio's boots hit the ground. Leonardo's head snapped up. Ezio sat,not looking the artist in the face as he adjusted his coat tails. Eventually, Leonardo couldn't help turning to face Ezio.

"It's so good to see you my friend. It's been a while hasn't it?"

Leonardo's face was contorted in a facsimile of a friendly smile, which looked more like a rictus grin better suited to a dead man's face. Seeing that awful look on his face made Ezio sick. That expression was never supposed to be on Leonardo da Vinci's face. Ezio couldn't help but tense his muscles instinctively, his own jaw beginning to ache. Ezio did his best to smile in return. 

"It has been a while, hasn't it? How are you, old friend?"

Ezio bowed his head a little more so that his hat and sunglasses would hide his expression from anyone walking by their bench. Leonardo fiddled with the stylus of his phone. He didn't look at his companion either as he spoke.

"I've been better as you know, but it could be worse."

Ezio could practically hear the lies, the things that were simply not said. Leonardo wasn't a liar by choice or by habit. He was simply lying by omission. Still, even as Ezio tried to catch Leonardo's sharp eyes, the artist hunched in on himself. 

Seeing this, Ezio ground his teeth. Cesare would pay, Ezio would make very sure of that. Never should Leonardo the genius artist be reduced to a scared rabbit. 

Unaware of Ezio's rising anger, Leonardo leaned back and looked up at the sky.   
"Besides, it is so good to finally see the blue sky. You have no idea my friend. I was never meant to be locked up inside of a building all day. As an artist and as an inventor, I mean; papers and computers and electricity are very helpful to my trade but I do miss the outdoors. Sketching from life, watching people; gives my muses a little more energy, you know?"

Ezio nodded, though he didn't really know what to say to that. He fidgeted in turn, unable to stop himself from raking his eyes over his best friend. He wondered what was really going through that brilliant, blonde head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am aware the a bit of Ezio's point of view differs from Leonardo's. I wrote them at different times and each feels a bit more natural to the character, in terms of how they precieve each other. Maybe they remember events differently, who knows.


	8. Change, Face the Strange; part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The flip side of a conversation.

Leonardo subtly looked over his friend. It was unusual for Ezio to be so taciturn, even in these terrible times. Yes, the man could be serious and stern; especially now that he was older, more experienced, and more deadly due to his assassin training. He had matured, just as all men did.

But that didn't mean that the boy who had stolen into his apartment in the middle of the night; gasping out the terrible fate of his family, was gone. It didn't mean that the boy who once carried Leonardo's canvases and papers while Maria Auditore chatted with Leonardo himself, was gone. The seventeen year old was just hidden, buried in the tender core of the hardened assassin that emerged from the tragedies Ezio had faced. Yet Leonardo wondered where that boy was now; where the smiling, teasing young man who clambered in and out of Leonardo's life was in that instant.

But the days grew longer as Leonardo's captivity continued. The time between these clandestine meetings between artist and assassin stretched further apart. Leonardo felt he saw less and less of Ezio the man and more and more of the master assassin, mentor of the Brotherhood.

Today, that difference was striking. Ezio was tense and angry. His eyes were a cold gold below his hat brim, his face chiseled out of unfeeling granite. Not even their treasured meeting felt the same.

Delicately, praying Ezio didn't notice, Leonardo sniffed the air. Leonardo always had a sharp nose for other people's scents. Today Ezio didn't even smell right. He smelled sharp, tangy, and acrid on the back of his tongue; as if Ezio had spent hours in the middle of an electrical fire. Leonardo was positive that Ezio himself wasn't aware of this, tightly contained within himself as he currently was.

Leonardo leaned closer, both to get a better look at his friend's face and to get a better idea of what exactly might be corrupting Ezio's normal scent. Perhaps, Leonardo mused, Ezio smelled odd because he had been in a fight. There could have been a fire as Ezio was infiltrating an enemy building. Ezio might not have made it out in time to clean up before this meeting. He could even be hiding injuries, hoping a pungent salve would hide the scent of blood. Swallowing down nausea, Leonardo ventured to continue the conversation.

"What have you been up to? Nothing too dangerous I hope?"

"I have stayed busy, I suppose." Grunted Ezio, as he leaned to the side, staring unnervingly at a passerby who had gawked a little too long

"I hope my notes have made it to you and that you--" Leonardo tried again.

"Yes, yes," Ezio interrupted. "I did see your notes. And I assure you that the latest machine of yours, whatever that was, is gone. I destroyed it and all of the plans for it. I assume Cesare doesn't tell you about that."

"No. Cesare does not usually impart such knowledge to me. I suppose he doesn't see my knowing it as useful. Though I think that even when he does not tell me, his thoughts on the matter certainly influence his actions."  
Leonardo stuttered and Ezio's head lifted. The strange scent intensified even as Ezio's odd eyes locked onto Leonardo's face.

"His actions." Ezio's voice was flat.

"Yes, well, it's just in his treatment of myself. And Salai, sometimes. Cesare just, well, it's not important." Leonardo turned fully to Ezio again, reaching out to grip his shoulders.  
"What is important, my friend, is whether or not you are injured. And are your hidden weapons in order? Does anything need repair? I mean, I haven't been able to work on your hidden gun very much but I am always happy to help." Leonardo felt his face heat up with nervous energy. His anxious fingers began questing, searching for the tell tale lump of bandages. 

Ezio startled, scooting back on the bench and he caught Leonardo's hands tightly in his own.  
"I know that and I appreciate it but I didn't come here simply because you have a new piece of gear or because I needed something repaired. I came to see you. To make sure you are unharmed," Ezio said, obstinately. 

"No, I mean, my treatment here, it is to be expected." Leonardo stuttered, not sure what Ezio meant. The Borgia had him imprisoned, what could Ezio do? The assassin could no more help than Leonardo could grow wings and fly away from his troubles.

"That is not an answer." Ezio's voice was even flatter, sharp in a way Leonardo had never heard before. Leonardo stiffened a little because this wasn't what he was expecting. His friend's posture was taut as a bow string, ramrod straight. His usually jovial face turned serious.

Leonardo shifted uneasily, this wasn't the behavior he was expecting.  
"Ezio, is something the matter? You don't seem yourself. I'm fine, as fine as I can be in this situation. You know this."

Ezio stood, pacing like a wild cat in a zoo. Ezio didn't look at the artist, careful to avoid even fully facing Leonardo. The acrid scent attached to Ezio increased. Something was wrong. And it was more than just the stress or worry. There was something else gnawing away at the assassin, something other than the Templars.


	9. I'm Burning for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little history lesson and the truth of the matter at hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I worked on this. Real life is annoyingly good at preventing me from writing.
> 
> As a heads up, I did some minor editing to chapters 4 through 8, mostly grammar and awkward sentences. 
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and for reading!

Ezio felt as though there were little fire ants running up and down his veins. His blood,boiling. Cesare, the Templars, everything was infuriating. How dare they treat Leonardo this way! And not only that, but Ezio smelled the fear, the pain, the worry, the exhaustion; just as strong as the smoke from the fire in the university from earlier, on his friend. Such intense smells weren't something he usually sensed. Ezio's own sense of smell was dulled after years and years of drenching himself in perfumes and colognes. After all, it wouldn't do for anyone to be able to identify him by a single scent. Out of the corner of his eye he glanced at his friend who was sitting still, alert and worried. The assassin forced himself to take deep breaths, to unclench his fists, and to sit back down.

"My apologies. I'm not sure what's gotten into me."

"You have no need to ask forgiveness, my friend. But I am getting a little nervous. I've learned to trust you, as you have an excellent instinct for trouble. Both for finding it and causing it; but also being aware of when it's going to fall down on our heads. So what exactly is troubling you?"

Ezio honestly wasn't sure himself because he hadn't felt this way before, not in a very long time. He was beginning to get a nauseous sensation his belly. Last time he felt anything similar to this was shortly after his family had died.

It had been a few months after burying his father and brothers in an unmarked grave, after getting his sister and mother to his uncle's home. He had been in the tiny commune his family ran; when he began to feel a terrible cramping in his gut and nausea. That was followed by paranoia and a sudden awareness of just how many people there were around him, how many people there were in the area. He could suddenly smell each and every one of them. It had been beyond his comprehension. He'd rushed into his uncle's office, slammed the door, then leaned against the heavy boards for all he was worth. Panting, sweat pouring from him, a trembling Ezio had begged his uncle for some sort of medication, because something in the town must be making Ezio sick. The awful symptoms so suddenly assaulting him could not be normal.

Uncle Mario had looked up and simply  
sniffed. The older man's pupils had blown and he had said softly, as if to a wild colt,"Oh, my nephew this-- This is not a sickness. This is simply nature."

"What? What are you talking about uncle?" Ezio had begged.

"I am talking about your heat, have you not had one before?"

It all crashed down on Ezio. He knew what ailed him. He had experienced heats before. They had never been this terrible though. Having his family around helped immensely. Before, he hadn't really been of age to really experience the true heat of full sexual maturity. Being part of a wealthier family also meant they had always been able to afford medications that could help mitigate and alleviate the symptoms and urges caused by an omega's heats. Not only that, but he had had Christina, his lover, to soothe him through the worst symptoms. 

His uncle had helped Ezio to the attic room, where he had spent the most agonising heat of his life. Ezio had emerged exhausted and slept a day and a night. He had gone to the apothecary as soon as his legs would hold him, purchasing medicines to prevent and ease future heats.

Thinking on these past occurrences, Ezio began to feel a little dizzy. This could not be happening. Yes, he was stressed, he had let a few things slide, but surely he would have remembered when his heat was coming. Surely he would know and take precautions in time?

As Ezio stood there and stared at Leonardo, he realized the worst had happened. He had felt the symptoms for days and ignored them simply because he didn't have much of a choice. There was a mission, there was Leonardo. He could not stop simply because his treacherous flesh demanded. His body was a weapon. It was a tool, the missions came before anything else. 

It was a very very bad time for a heat. Leonardo's smell was overwhelming.


	10. Welcome to the Jungle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realizations are slow but steady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short. I felt this was a good place to break the chapters up...

Ezio was sort of swaying, Leonardo wasn't quite sure what was wrong. Perhaps his friend was drugged, possibly by his own weaponry. But he didn't know what else to do besides stand up, grab Ezo by the elbows and say, "Whatever this is, we can fix it. Do you have any injuries? Have you been cut recently? Did the blade have a drug on it? Was it yours? Or someone else's?"

"What? Who, what are you talking about?"

"I mean, your poison. Or your blade. I mean, I you could have nicked yourself when priming your knives."

"Nicked? No, no Leonardo this isn't - I have to go. I have to go right now. And you need to get back to the Templars. I can't protect you. There's nothing I can do."

Leonardo frowned, he's not asking Ezio to do anything. "You are not acting yourself. You must be sick, to act so. Please, let me help."

Until this moment, Leonardo had never really taken notice of Ezio's scent, beyond the fact that he usually smelled expensive. And that was about the only thing he could describe the man's scent as because Ezio never smelled like anything beyond chemicals and perfumes. But Leonardo noticed that acrid scent from before underneath the chemicals and the perfumes. Suddenly the artist wondered if perhaps this wasn't an accidental dosing of poison. Maybe this was something else, something much worse.

"Ezio, you know, I've never - this isn't, are you-" Leonardo couldn't catch Ezio's eyes, nor his attention. Leonardo stepped closer to Ezio, trying to hold him in place.


End file.
